Moon and stars keep watch above thee,
Softly glides my song into thy sleep,
Through the linden tree may a dream of me
Softly steal into thy sleep. Good-night!

A VAGABOND SONG

Daniel Prothero

It's ho! for a song as wild and free
As the swash of the waves in the open sea;
It's ho! for a song as unconfined
As the hawk that sails in the summer wind.
A song for a vagabond's heart and brain,
Refreshing and sweet: as the roving rain
That chants to the thirsty earth
A song of rollicking mirth,
A song of the grass and grain!

It's ho! for a vagabond's life say I!
A vagabond live, and a vagabond die,
It's ho! to roam in the solitudes,
And chum with the birds in the vagrom woods,
To sleep with the flow'rs, and wash in the dew,
And dream of love that is ever new,
A love that never grows stale,
Like a cask of rum or ale,
A love that is ever true.

It's ho! for a stretch of the dusty road,
Or here a meadow, or there a lode;
It's ho! to hear in the early morn
The yellow allegro of the tasselled corn;
To sail in fancy the golden main,
Where breezes billow the seas of grain,
And the swallows that skim the tips,
Are richly cargoed ships
Outbound for the ports of Spain.

It's ho! for the smell of sap that swims,
When the Maples sweat like an athlete's limbs;
It's ho! for the joys that crowd the spring,
The brawl of the brooks, the birds that sing;
To wander at will the summer through
Indifferent to blame, careless of due;
In winter the kiss that slips
From a nut-brown naiad's lips
And the love that lies in her eyes of blue!

THE ANGELUS,

The Angelus sounds from the Convent bells,
Like a sweet voice, low and tender.
And over the crest of the hills in the West,
The red sun dies in splendor.

To all it brings peace and labors all cease
At the voice of the ev'ning blest;
'Tis the call unto pray'r, it is solace to care,
And it brings to the weary rest!

Ring on, ring on gentle Angelus!
Born of the Convent bells,
Ring on, ring on gentle Angelus!
'Tis the hour of fond farewells!

"If Doughty Deeds My Lady Please"

John J. Bishop

(Written for the Fiftieth Anniversary of the Orpheus Club, Springfield, Mass.)

If doughty deeds my lady please,
Right soon I'll mount my steed,
And stout his arm, and fast his seat
That bears frae me the meed.
I'll wear thy colors in my cap,
Thy picture at my heart.
And he that bends not to thy glance
Shall rue it to his smart.

But if fond love thy heart can gain,
I never brake a vow,
Nae maiden lays her skaith at me,
I never loved but you.
For you alone, I ride the ring,
For you I wear the blue,
For you alone I strive to sing
0, tell me how to woo.

"Marching to Meet One Bounaparty"

Harvey B. Gaul

We be the King's men, hale and hearty,
Marching to meet one Bounaparty;
If we won't sail, lest the wind should blow,
We shall have marched for nothing. 0!

We be the King's men, hale and hearty,
Marching to meet one Bounaparty,
If he be seasick, says No, no!
We shall have marched for nothing, 0!

We be the King's men, hale and hearty,
Marching to meet one Bounaparty,
Never mind, mates, we'll be merry' though
We may have marched for nothing, 0!